


just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight

by notthebigspoon



Series: the boys of summer [1]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theriot hugs Hector a lot. Hector isn't quite sure what to make of it. It's not that he doesn't have a reason. Usually Hector has injured himself or done something good that would warrant affection from a teammate. None of them are quite as touchy feely as Theriot though, choosing instead to dole out a pat on the back or a high five or a smack on the ass. But Theriot goes for the hug every single time, and he usually lingers. It should be a non issue by now, something Hector has gotten used to, but it isn't. He's fixated on Theriot's possible motivations.</p><p>Title taken from Just a Kiss by Lady Antebellum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight

Theriot hugs Hector a lot. Hector isn't quite sure what to make of it. It's not that he doesn't have a reason. Usually Hector has injured himself or done something good that would warrant affection from a teammate. None of them are quite as touchy feely as Theriot though, choosing instead to dole out a pat on the back or a high five or a smack on the ass. But Theriot goes for the hug every single time, and he usually lingers. It should be a non issue by now, something Hector has gotten used to, but it isn't. He's fixated on Theriot's possible motivations.

He thinks about asking Pablo but he doesn't, not wanting to look foolish or conceited. It's very possible that he's reading too much into it, brain tricking him into seeing something that isn't actually there. The idea that it's nothing more than typical Giants over affection is surprisingly disappointing. He likes the hugs, looks forward to them, anticipates them. When he's made a Posey throw, Theriot is always waiting to hug him when he returns to the dugout.

He starts watching, cataloging, making notes in his head about the expressions on Theriot's face when a hug is due. There are fond smiles and fiercely proud ones that Hector is sure extends beyond normal intrateam relations. He actually avoids a hug, makes himself unavailable and there's no mistaking the hurt and confusion on Theriot's face. The more Hector sees, the more convinced he becomes that Theriot, somehow in some form, likes him.

Every guy, every person ever really, has at some point considered whether or not they're attractive. Hector doesn't over think it. He knows he's pretty decent looking, he gets enough attention and enough girls to prove that to himself. He knows being a baseball player doesn't hurt his chances either. But Theriot, he's gorgeous and Hector didn't even think that he himself really liked guys. Theriot is that kind of pretty that everyone finds attractive. He has people hanging off of him everywhere he goes. Hector doesn't think it would make any sense for Theriot to be attracted to him.

The frustration and confusion get bad enough that he finally feels he has no choice but to talk to someone. He sits on the information, brooding and rehashing before he finally asks Pablo if he wants to skip the post game spread and grab dinner elsewhere. Pablo agrees easily enough. It's something that they do all the time. They hit up a pizza place that Pablo loves. Hector is on his second beer when he gathers up his courage.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, my padawan. Ask me anything.”

“I'm okay looking, right? People want me?” He asks uncertainly. He cringes. He sounds like a teenage girl.

“More than fine. Adorable too. Women swoon over you. Why do you ask? Get shot down by a foxy mama?”

Hector flushes. “No. Just, this person is really gorgeous and I don't know why they would want me when they could have anyone in the world. I think they like me. They seem hurt if I seem to avoid them. But I just don't get them wanting _me_.”

“Hey, people love you. They really do, pandito, and not just for looks. You're kind, good hearted. People like being around you. There's no reason for this person _not_ to like you.”

“But they're so pretty.” Hector answers morosely, stuffing more pizza into his mouth.

“I have never seen you this keyed up over something before.” Pablo says. He sounds completely mystified. “You must really really like this girl.”

“It's not a girl. It's Theriot.”

Pablo has always been honest and open with Hector. Hector doesn't want to lie to him, even by omission. It would feel like too much of a betrayal of their friendship and he knows that Pablo has no problem with guys liking guys. But he regrets telling the truth immediately because Pablo's face is quickly overtaken by a massive grin. Hector stares at his plate, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“It is not funny.”

“Didn't think that it was.” Pablo answers, but he sounds amused. “I just always kind of figured that he had a crush on you, he gave you so much attention. I didn't know that the feeling was mutual. I didn't even know that you liked guys.”

“I didn't either. I mean, I don't know if I do. I don't look at other guys. There's just... there's just him. I look at him and I feel something different that I had not felt before.”

“That's very romantic, baby panda.”

“Shut up and eat.”

They don't talk about it again for a while. Pablo seems to be giving Hector space and time to think that Hector doesn't know if he's thankful for or not. He lets himself get closer to Theriot, submits to the hugs and small bits of physical affection. He talks to him on the bench, usually about the game or the latest team drama floating around the clubhouse. It's superficial small talk but it's still nice. Hector finds himself hunting out Theriot's smiles, feeling warm all over every time he gets one.

It comes to a head when the majority of the team descends on a bar one night to celebrate a hard won victory. Hector is wandering freely with a beer in his hand, stopping here and there to check out a card game or a drinking contest. He passes the booth Scutaro, Romo and Theriot are tucked into and he's pulled to sit down, landing against Romo. He mostly listens, Romo and Theriot debating the rookie dress up day and just what Lopez has planned.

To be perfectly honest, Hector isn't much interested. It'll be embarrassing but what must be done is best done cheerfully and he'll find a way to have fun with it. Before long, Romo is snoring on Scutaro's shoulder. Scutaro declares it time to go home and rouses him, gently steering him out of the bar to go home. It takes a moment for it to really register to Hector that he's been left alone with Theriot. Actually alone.

He fidgets, looks across the table. “Well. He was pretty drunk.”

“Scoots will get him home okay.” Theriot answers indifferently. Hector feels a pang of disappointment. Maybe he was wrong about all the hugs and attention. Maybe that was just at the park horseplay.

“I should probably go too. I do not live far from here. Nice night for a walk.” He mumbles, looking away and getting up. He makes it a few feet when a hand closes on his shoulder. He glances back.

Theriot is smiling. “Maybe I could walk with you? I could use some air.”

Hector says yes without really thinking about it and decides he likes the dark and dank atmosphere after all. It means Theriot can't see him blush. Their exit goes unnoticed, everyone too drunk or too busy to pay any attention. They fall into step together on the sidewalk, Hector waving a hand in the general direction of his apartment.

Out here in the dark, with a nice breeze ruffling their hair, it feels much simpler to talk to Theriot. He doesn't have to rely solely on baseball related topics, instead finding himself telling Theriot that sometimes he gets homesick for Venezuela and what a relief it is to have so many teammates from his home country to keep him company. Theriot tells him about Louisiana, saying Hector has to visit it one day. They talk about their childhoods, Hector's cute but stupid cat and Theriot's cute and freakishly smart kids.

They pass a convenience store and buy pints of ice cream on a whim, Hector steering them to a nearby park where they perch on top of a picnic table to eat.

“Pablo, he-” Hector starts, and he laughs. “When anything goes wrong in practice or during a game, he always takes me out for ice cream afterward. I don't know why. Guess it's become, um, what do you call it? Just one of those things? I like it though.”

“You two are pretty close. He takes good care of you.”

“He does.” Hector agrees with a grin. “I rely on him kind of a lot. Like every time I get lost, I call him and he either has to tell me what to do to get home or find the place I'm looking for. That doesn't happen as much lately. I have a better feel for the city now.”

“Must be nice, having someone to be so close to.” Theriot sounds wistful.

“You're lonely.” Hector says. It's not a question.

“Sometimes.”

“But you have so many friends.”

Theriot shrugs, scraping his spoon against his ice cream. He has an 'it is what it is' expression on his face but he also looks a little sad. Hector hates that, hates to see someone he likes, cares about, looking that way. He wants to do something to make Theriot smile. He's not quite sure what gives him his next idea. Maybe he's always wanted to do it.

Either way, he kisses Theriot, a quick, warm press of lips that Theriot leans into. When Hector pulls back, Theriot is staring at him confused. Hector flushes, wishing he knew what Theriot was thinking right now.

He doesn't have to ask because in the next moment, Theriot is kissing _him_ , a warm and calloused hand gripping Hector's neck. He coaxes for more, tongue flicking at Hector's lips until they part before dipping inside for a taste. Hector grips Theriot's thigh as their tongues twine together. He's dizzy and losing his breath but he doesn't want to break away, not yet. Not when his lips are tingling and he's seeing fireworks.

When they finally break apart, they're both panting for breath and Theriot has an unmistakably hungry look in his eyes that makes Hector's mouth go dry. His hand is still tightly gripping Theriot's thigh and he squeezes it, swallowing hard and licking his lips before finding his voice.

“My place, it's not far.”

He can't quite verbalize it, put it into the right words to tell Theriot what he wants. But he doesn't have to because Theriot seems to understand, sliding off the picnic table and waiting for Hector to do so as well. They don't talk much this time, walking in silence to the street and up the block to the corner. They cross the street, walking another block to the small apartment he's renting on the top floor of an art deco style building.

He's nervous, not quite sure what to expect and not knowing anything beyond the fact that he wants Theriot. He leads Theriot into the apartment. It's a little messy and Waffles greets them with a meow before curling and rubbing against Hector's legs. He wonders if he's supposed to offer a drink or something. He decides to take the easiest route and just kiss Theriot again.

It's the right tactic, apparently, because Theriot's hands slide under his shirt, feeling over Hector's skin. His touch is like electricity, zinging through Hector's nerves. They end up on the couch, both of them shirtless. Hector is on his back with Theriot on top of him. It's making out with a side of heavy petting, both of them feeling each other out and grinding their hips together, swallowing each other's moans in kisses.

It's so much different from anything else that Hector has ever experienced. He's used to women, soft and small and delicate. Theriot is none of those things, strong and firm and heavy. He's a little scruffy and it scrapes at the skin of Hector's neck when Theriot's kisses start moving over his jaw and then downward. Theriot stops, sucking a mark at the base of Hector's throat. Hector moans, clutches at his shoulder and grinds up against him again.

“Y'want more?” Theriot asks, low and raspy. Hector nods, kissing him again and sliding a hand into Theriot's hair. It's so soft.

He loses his train of thought when Theriot works his jeans open with one hand, spitting onto his palm before pushing his hand into Hector's pants. His hand wraps around Hector's dick. Hector's hips jerk and he moans, ask for more and Theriot obliges him. There's no wondering anymore about whether or not he likes guys. He likes this guy and that's all that matters at the moment.

He's not a selfish guy, though, and he tries to return the favor but Theriot stops him with a shake of his head, grinding his hips against Hector's thigh. He says something about catcher thighs being a turn on and Hector laughs breathlessly. Still, he wants to touch. He gets a hand down the back of Theriot's jeans, groping his ass and using the grip to drag him forward. He's feeling an overload building through his body and he comes panting various blasphemies.

It feels like all his energy has drained out of him and he melts bonelessly into the couch. He keeps his grip on Theriot's ass and rocks his leg up, feeling ridiculously proud when he actually makes Theriot whimper as he comes. Theriot collapses down on top of Hector panting for breath and grinning, shaking his head and pressing his face into Hector's shoulder.

“How do you even _exist_?”

Hector doesn't understand the question but he apparently doesn't need to because Theriot is kissing him again. He starts to sit up but Hector grips his neck, kisses him roughly. He doesn't want this to end. Not yet.

“We're going to take a shower together. And you're going to stay the night.”

Theriot looks surprised but happy, nodding before getting up, holding out a hand to pull Hector up along with him. He pulls Hector close, kissing his ear and whispering, “Let's take that shower. I'll show you what else I can do with my mouth.”

Hector groans.


End file.
